


The Lost Year: A Tangled One-Shot Collection

by keeparecordofthewreckage



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, F/M, First Christmas, Inspired by Tangled (2010), Jealousy, Learning Together, Movie: Tangled Before Ever After, Post-Tangled (2010), Sneaking Around, Sneaking out of stuffy parties with stuffy nobles to do more fun things, Stolen Moments, Sweet, Tangled one shot collection, Tangled one shots, Tangled the series - Freeform, discussing jealousy during sexy fun times because why not, envy - Freeform, new experiences, rapunzel's tangled adventure - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeparecordofthewreckage/pseuds/keeparecordofthewreckage
Summary: This active, Rated M collection of Tangled one-shots is set in the same AU as my currently active story, 'Killing Me Slowly: A Tangled Fanfiction' over on Fanfiction.net, though you do not have to read the story to fully enjoy or understand the works included here!
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Rapunzel (Disney)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Sneak Away With Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hello, my lovely readers! I'm excited to announce that I've been working on starting this one-shot collection, which is directly connected to the storyline of my currently active story 'Killing Me Slowly: A Tangled Fanfiction.' I'm happy with the direction that story is taking, but there is an entire year of time which is basically skipped for the purpose of the plot. Here, I will be creating one-shots which relate to 'Killing Me Slowly,' (but these one-shots won't necessarily not make sense if you haven't read it), and the first year that New Dream spent together. I felt as though this was the perfect opportunity for a lot of special moments to be written between them. Things are getting pretty heavy in the plotline over there in KMS, so I wanted to post something a bit more lighthearted, yet still set in the same AU.
> 
> For this first chapter, we'll be focusing on Eugene and Rapunzel's first holiday season together, specifically the night of the Christmas Eve ball. This particular night is touched on in Chapter 10 as a memory sequence, but I wanted to dig a little deeper and make it into a full-length, Rated M one-shot. The featured song which inspired this first chapter is Willow by Taylor Swift. I've always felt that this song fits New Dream exceptionally well, and it seemed to fit the overall premise of this chapter even better.
> 
> Anyway, I hope that you will enjoy this one-shot! And if you haven't yet, consider checking out 'Killing Me Slowly,' in which New Dream navigates Rapunzel's unexpected arranged marriage. We're already 22 chapters deep over there, and I'm enjoying writing the story so much. It actually makes it a little hard to write stuff like this, set in the same universe, because they were just so happy before *Charles* had to show up.
> 
> Don't even point out that it's my own fault that Charles showed up. I know it is. I know.

**Chapter 1: Sneak Away with Me Tonight, Let Go in the Candlelight**

_Wherever you stray, I follow_

_I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans…_

"Come on, Blondie!"

"Where are we _going?_ " The spirited princess giggles as she allows herself to be pulled along, reminiscent of the same question that she'd once asked him on the small, wooden boat as they'd floated into the harbor, anticipating the rise of the lanterns in the night sky.

"Does it really matter?" Eugene questions her cheekily in the incandescent moonlight, grinning himself, pulling her to his chest as he comes to a sudden halt in the middle of the garden maze's trail.

She falls against him – all ninety-five pounds of dress dripping in gold – panting slightly between words, her soft cheeks blushed pink by the cold, night air. Reaching up with ghostly, gentle fingers to brush the fallen hair away from his forehead once she's steadied herself properly against him, he notes the curiously nostalgic look gleaming in her eye.

"No, it doesn't."

She stares up at him for a long time, as though he were the beholder of each of her most precious memories – and he supposes, in a way, he is. When she finally speaks again, her voice is breathy and sure, devoid of any doubt at all as she tugs at his collar (a habit of hers which he's grown happily accustomed to), drawing herself up on the tips of her toes to bring their lips close.

"I'd follow you anywhere, Eugene Fitzherbert."

Eugene cocks his head down at her playfully, pretending to be utterly surprised by this weighty confession of hers – a confession which, if it had come from anyone else, would frankly scare the shit out of him. But, because these words have fallen from _her_ lips, Eugene is desperate to catch them before they hit the ground, desperate to make her say them over and over again for the rest of time.

Regardless of her serious confession, though, he'll toy with her, because that's just what they do.

In reality, Eugene's heart positively _stops_ in response to her sweet words – completely taken by the enchanting look on her equally as sweet face – because he would gladly follow _her_ anywhere.

His choppy-haired princess looks so beautiful tonight, dressed in a sparkling (and probably incredibly _heavy_ ), golden gown, and Eugene isn't entirely sure how he's managed to get so damn lucky after twenty-four years of shit luck all around. In the last three months, he's made out like a bandit, having been dealt the best possible hand of cards that Eugene could've dreamed of. Now, he's living easy in a _castle_ , he doesn't even remember the last time that he was hungry (which had once been a regular occurrence for the majority of his life before her), and he's stolen something that he'd never even hoped to steal before he'd gotten a glimpse of hers: _a heart._

And even if the castle, the money, and the royal lineage had never existed for her at all, she would've been enough for him – she would've been _more_ than enough to make him want to change. Eugene would've taken that heart of hers and ran with it, crown or no crown. The desire to follow him anywhere, is not devoid of mutualism in any way. He so strongly shares her desire to desert the rest of the world for the other's sake; to follow those bare footprints of hers, when he'd never wanted to follow a woman anywhere before (aside from to her bed, in which he'd always disappear from by morning, anyway).

No, this girl dressed in gold before him now, is entirely different. Eugene doesn't want to wake up in her bed for the sheer sake of waking up in her bed, only to remain unable to recall her name at the expense of the telltale, pounding headache of a hangover. He wants to wake up in the princess's bed, because waking up in her bed would mean a whole lot more than being drunk enough to get his dick wet by a body which will never be important enough to have a name attached to it.

Because waking up in her bed would embody a little word called _forever_ – something which Eugene actually _yearns for_ with her – a word in which he'd always been terrified of, but now slides from his tongue with ease when she's the one asking for it.

So, in all honesty, she'd stolen his: his heart has been sitting in the palm of her little, gentle hand for months now, Eugene's deep-rooted abandonment issues awaiting the dreaded, shattering _drop_ of his heart, praying that it will never come. But this free-spirited, entirely beautiful girl… he _trusts her_ with that messed up heart of his – trusts her in such a blind way that Eugene has never trusted anyone before. Because she is pure sunshine, and pure intentions, and deliverer of the purest love that Eugene has ever received.

And she, having been presented with every plausible reason not to, has entrusted him with _her_ _heart_ in kind, and has trusted that he's capable of changing – though she is among the few who truly do.

Even though he doesn't deserve it, she has met him halfway with this mutually blind trust, fully believing that redemption is a word in which Eugene Fitzherbert is actually capable of living up to – not only for her sake, but for his own betterment. And it's not as though Eugene hadn't had a good heart before her (once buried under selfish greed and the desire to be someone else), and it's not as though he hadn't _wanted_ to be a good person, for a time.

It's just that she's reminded him _how_ to be a good person, and it's just that she's given him a reason to use that good heart of his again.

Really, a man like him doesn't deserve a woman like her at all.

And yet, here he is: standing with said crowned princess in the hidden gardens of an expansive castle, dressed in an equally as festive, equally as _expensive_ outfit. Which, now that Eugene is thinking about it, is really quite scratchy, and really quite hot – this being only _part_ of the reason as to why he'd drug her out into the gardens in the first place.

But it doesn't matter, his comfort. Tonight is entirely about her, and the celebration of her first holiday season with her parents – her first holiday season as the _returned_ princess of Corona. Rapunzel has been absolutely _glowing_ in result of the overzealous love in which her people have shown her during the four-week holiday festival.

Frankly, Eugene would wear anything, be anything, and _do_ anything (including spending the night carrying on in painful small talk with hundreds of stuffy, judgmental nobles who can't believe that he, _a wanted thief_ , is probably bedding their princess) – anything for this glowing, bouncy, _barefooted_ young woman to keep staring up at him with those haunting, green eyes of hers. Anything to hear those passionate words falling from her pretty lips again and again, as he's become so desperate to memorize them to the tune of her intoxicating voice: _'I'd follow you anywhere.'_

"Oh, really? Even to a bunch of lanterns when you barely know me, have absolutely _no idea_ if you can even _trust_ a charming, handsome rogue like me – "

" _Euuuugene_." Rapunzel cuts off his egotistical joking, laughing at his teasing heartily – although, her jovial expression quickly grows serious once more, the desire (desire which she doesn't entirely understand quite yet, though they're working on it) lighting up in her eyes like a beacon which Eugene would dare to chase after as though it were his last hope.

The princess continues to toy with his collar, pulling him slightly closer in the cool, midnight air, and Eugene swears that she's staring at his lips more than into his eyes as she speaks.

"I know you _now_. I would follow you then, and I would follow you now." She sighs, a thousand memories dancing behind her mischievous eyes. "But now… it's not because I want something, like to see the lanterns. It's just because I want you."

Eugene feels a clench in the pit of his stomach at her endearing statement, one that he tries his damn hardest to ignore. They've only been living in the palace together for three months now, though it feels as if he's loved her for a lifetime.

"Why are we out here, anyway?"

Rapunzel looks around, taking in the palace maze which Eugene had so hastily pulled her into – which, although they've visited this spot before, looks entirely different in the dark of the night. With it being this late, and this eerily quiet (save for the very faint music traveling from the castle), it feels as though they could be in another dimension altogether, what with the tall hedges surrounding them on all sides. What with her hectic schedule as princess, and his new job as a palace guard, they haven't exactly gotten to relish in much quiet time together as of late.

"It was getting too stuffy in there. I needed some fresh air." Eugene shrugs and looks to her pointedly, running a loving hand through the princess's short hair, always so painfully in tune with her emotions – regardless of the age of their still-fledging relationship.

"And I had a feeling that you might need some, too."

It's not a complete lie. It _was_ getting incredibly stuffy for him in the palace ballroom, and Eugene had started to feel a bit lightheaded in the broad – though _over-crowded_ – room. Rapunzel pokes at his chest playfully in response, a small smile resting upon her lips, and a knowing look in her eye.

"Or _maybe_ it has something to do with those glasses of champagne that you had."

"Nuance." Eugene waves a dismissive hand in the air, recalling that he _had_ drank a decent amount of alcohol throughout the course of the long evening – though, he hadn't had nearly enough to label him as impaired, or even anything close to it.

The princess shoots him a look, and Eugene sinks a reassuring hand into her short hair once more, pressing a gentle finger to her slightly pouted lip.

"Oh, come on, Blondie. Don't give me that look. I'm just a little buzzed, that's all."

He's definitely buzzed. Just not enough to remain ignorant to how beautiful she looks, standing here in the moonlight, dressed in the painfully flattering, gold dress that she'd been all but shoved into for the Christmas Eve banquet and ball – a dress which shows off her small figure and delicate curves in the most tantalizing of ways.

Eugene leans down to kiss each of her rosy cheeks, whispering against them as he does so.

"But more importantly, I'm a lot in love with you."

"I love you, too, Eugene. So much." Rapunzel leans forward on her toes to kiss him quickly on the lips, her nose wrinkling cutely as she snuggles against his warm chest momentarily. "But it _is_ a little cold out here, don't you think?"

"Hey, I'm always here to keep you warm." Eugene presses his lips to her neck, nipping at it gently before soothing the spot with his tongue, causing Rapunzel to involuntarily tilt her head back with a contented sigh, which materializes into a visible cloud of breath in the cold air.

Eugene presses a hand to his heart, never too embarrassed to be his slightly-theatrical, sometimes-dramatic, always-playful self around her.

"I'm actually a bit _wounded_ to know that isn't enough for you."

"Oh, Eugene." The shivering princess giggles, letting out a breathy, quiet moan (which sends a warming pang through Eugene's body) at the feeling of his hot lips contrasting against the chilled skin at her neck. "You're _more_ than enough for me. But that isn't enough to control the weather, silly!"

Eugene can't help but laugh at her reasoning as well, though he pulls away from her to subsequently shrug out of his jacket. He makes to offer it to her, not yet ready to give his princess back up to the noble crowd – never ready to have her attention stolen by other men for hours upon hours at a time, men who are desperate to capture the attention of the Lost Princess. Men who are probably far better suited to be her future husband than he is.

She stops him, though, pulling the regal coat back onto his shoulders with red, slightly shaky hands.

"It's okay. Come on, let's go back inside."

Honestly, Eugene had hoped for more time alone with her, though he's grown quite accustomed to being thankful for whatever time he can get. So, he doesn't protest, knowing that it _is_ quite cold this time of year, especially once the sun sets over the kingdom.

Rapunzel leads him from the peaceful maze, and the two lovers enter the main castle hallway from the side door leading to the gardens – a hallway which is thankfully empty for the time being, planting an entirely mischievous idea into the young princess's head.

So, instead of leading him back to the ballroom, Rapunzel sneakily looks around, nonchalantly tugging his hand the other way when she's satisfied that no one will see them, pulling Eugene farther down the hallway and away from the tall, ballroom doors. The sudden warmth of the castle flushes her chilled cheeks, providing them with a rosy glow, and Eugene studies her face in confusion as she pulls him along casually.

"What're you doing? The party is right there –" Eugene motions to the grand ballroom where the loud music and bouts of laughter are jovially filtering from, the party in full swing despite the late hour.

"I don't want to go back." Rapunzel states simply with a shrug, tugging once more at his only _partially_ reluctant hand. "I'm tired of talking to people who don't really know me. I want to be alone with you."

Really, he's not putting much of an _effort_ into stopping her from dragging him away from the stuffy party. She might be willing to follow him anywhere, but Eugene would gladly return the favor without pause, even in the times which he knows that he shouldn't; when he knows that egging her curiosity on, and going along with her mischievous tendencies, wouldn't be wise. When running off together – _ditching_ her royal duties – could result in a hefty punishment for the both of them.

Like right now.

After all, he'd _promised_ to her parents in a fancy, mahogany-paneled office on the night which they'd first arrived at the castle, that he would always look out for her, and that he would keep her out of trouble. And, Eugene supposes, this very trouble which he's been requested to keep her out of, _probably_ includes himself. But, Eugene reasons, she's always been worth that risk of getting into a little bit of trouble.

Mostly because he can't truly deny her, and Rapunzel knows it. She's always known it. But that doesn't mean that he won't, at the very least, make a half-assed attempt at getting her to make the right decision.

"But we have to. Someone will notice that you're gone, that _we're_ gone. Your parents –"

Frankly, Eugene isn't entirely adept to the king and queen quite yet, as he's only known them for three months now – nor is he yet entirely accustomed to their long list of rules after twenty-four years of essentially not having any boundaries or parental figures at all. Sure, the three of them get on just fine (considering), and he's eternally grateful for their ability to so gracefully forgive his treasonous ass. For this very reason, Eugene doesn't exactly want to piss the king and queen off again – about _anything_ – let alone for disappearing for more ten minutes with their daughter.

Rapunzel halts them in the middle of the hauntingly empty hallway, the candlewax burning in the glittering chandeliers above them, turning to face him with a look of pure mischief in her eye. It's a look of hers which Eugene has grown rather accustomed to, a look which usually graces her typically innocent face when she's about to ask him to do something with her that could very easily get them into trouble – usually, something which goes against every royal code and expectation of appropriate, princess-like behavior. This expected behavior is paired with rules and regulations which so often engage in an internal battle with her childlike curiosity.

It's one of the many things which Eugene loves about Rapunzel: her willingness to break the long list of haughty rules placed upon her, if only for the sheer thrill of seeing that surprised look on his face when he realizes just how far the curious princess is willing to push her boundaries sometimes – how willing she is to push those boundaries with him, and for him.

While Eugene knows that he probably shouldn't _encourage_ such rule breaking behavior, he usually doesn't have it within himself to chastise her, either – what with her being chastised enough in eighteen years to last Rapunzel for a lifetime, the image of doing so to her himself positively breaks his heart.

Besides, if she weren't that way – if Rapunzel weren't willing to test her boundaries from time to time – Eugene would have to worry that the hefty duty and stress of being a princess would crush her altogether. He's always feared that she'll start to feel trapped all over again in this new life of hers if she doesn't learn that pushing the boundaries – while doing so is often only asking for trouble – is sometimes entirely _necessary_ when trying to determine who you are as an adult.

And while Rapunzel has always had a very strong sense of individuality, the recently-returned princess deserves to make a few mistakes along the way, just like every other young adult who _hadn't_ been locked away in a tower for eighteen years. Heaven knows, Eugene had made _his_ fair share of them – mistakes which have shaped him into the man that he is today, mistakes which had led him right to her.

So, really, pushing the boundaries and making mistakes shouldn't always be deemed as such a negative thing in this royal world of theirs – or so Eugene reasons with himself when he starts to feel a little guilty for letting her get away with pushing those boundaries quite as frequently as he does, despite the promise which he'd made to her parents.

"My _parents_ are busy. They're with their friends, they're having fun! They're completely preoccupied."

Rapunzel reasons with a slight, playful roll of her eye, leaning on her tiptoes to give him a tantalizing kiss – a kiss which, unfortunately for Eugene and his moral compass, leaves him wanting more of her.

"And so are we."

So, only because he's not entirely strong enough to deny her of just about anything (and, realistically, he hasn't been from the day that he'd met her), Eugene allows Rapunzel to pull him all the way from the main level to his bedroom in the guard's wing of the palace.

Eugene had only started his job just barely two months ago now. He's liking it, enough, thankful that the king had granted his request to feel useful – when, really, his only other option was to be the princess's freeloading boyfriend. It feels as though he finally has a real _purpose_ – well, a slightly more consistent, not- _illegal_ purpose. A purpose which will actually make her proud. This is all that truly matters, even if the Captain of the Guard is still warming up to the idea of training the man who had been – only a few, measly months prior – the very bane of his existence and greatest pain in his ass.

Besides, Eugene already knows the inner workings of the castle grounds like the back of his hand, having memorized it's very blueprint long before actually moving in, and long before even meeting Rapunzel, when he'd first been hired to steal the coveted Lost Princess's crown.

Eugene is quite an asset to the guard, if he does say so himself, if only because he'd once stolen the crown of said Lost Princess, who is currently busy dragging him by the collar into his bedroom. Life really is filled to the brim with irony, and this fact hasn't been lost on Eugene as of late. His fate had been twisted with hers like an invisible, golden string – one which he would never even _imagine_ cutting loose.

Hastily pushing open the door to his bedroom when they ultimately arrive there, both bubbling with the anticipation of touching one another properly after an evening of hidden, longing looks, Eugene quickly closes the door behind them and presses her back snuggly against it, pushing his body against hers in one, swift motion. His calloused hands immediately reach down between them, cupping either side of her face as their tongues tangle together fiercely. Thumbs softly brush each of her cheekbones as they're finally able to make out in peace, without the fear of someone catching them in the hallway.

She whimpers into his mouth ever-so-quietly at the feel of his urgent touch, causing a forest fire of desire to erupt in the pit of his stomach at the sound. In response, Eugene gathers her in his arms, lifting Rapunzel from the wooden floorboards and carrying her to the bed, lying her down gently.

This isn't the first time that she's been in his bedroom in this way, late at night like this. Though, the two of them would never admit their indiscretions aloud to anyone else, fully aware of the assumed consequences – except maybe to Cassandra and Lance, who wouldn't dare breathe a word themselves out of sheer loyalty to their dearest friends.

Rapunzel has taken to sneaking into his bedroom in the middle of the night in the past few weeks, having expertly memorized the consistently-timed routes of the nightshift guards, in order to make doing so without detection possible. Though curiosity has always been one of the princess's predominant traits, she's been _exceptionally_ curious as of late, ever since accidentally stumbling upon a few… _specific_ books in the library. She likes to spend much of her free time there, pouring over the pages of thousands of new books – probably a direct result of having only _three_ to choose from in her tower.

Typically, the two of them don't journey down Intimacy Road much further than making out and feeling one another up from the relatively-safe comfort of _over_ their night clothes, or snuggling together under the warmth of the blankets in silence, simply enjoying one another's uninterrupted company. Eugene, not wanting to overwhelm his newly-returned princess, doesn't want to take things anything but painfully _slow_ with her, never taking the next step until he's sure – until _she's_ sure – that she's ready for it. Honestly, he's still a bit terrified of somehow messing things up with Rapunzel – terrified of making her want to leave him, just as everyone else always had for the majority of his life before her.

Other nights, they'll simply talk, enveloped in the easy comfortableness which has always graced their relationship. Often, they would talk about Gothel, about his childhood in the orphanage, or simply about the sometimes mundane events of their day. These late-night visits of hers, Eugene could say, are a new tradition which he's grown rather attached to, even if he knows that he probably shouldn't let her do it.

But tonight, Eugene has a feeling – what with Rapunzel's recent insatiable curiosity and mischievous streak, and what with the look that she'd had in her eye only minutes ago in the empty hallway outside of the loud ballroom – they aren't going to just _talk_ tonight. And although he knows that it's wrong to allow a princess – let alone a princess who carries such a natural, sometimes _painful_ innocence within her – to engage in such scandalous behavior, Eugene has never been one to really care for stuffy rules, or to care for meeting stiff expectations.

And while he doesn't _want_ Rapunzel to get into trouble for his sake, per say, Eugene has never been particularly great at saying no to her.

He's _definitely_ never been one to deny the girl that he loves of anything: not using his arms as a canvas for her paintings, not allowing her to jump on his bed to wake him up because she's just _so excited_ to start a brand new day, and definitely not this.

 _Especially_ not this.

Frankly, Eugene reasons with himself (despite the guilt which sometimes creeps into that newly re-found, pesky conscience of his), she isn't a _child_ anymore, and her insatiable, persistent curiosity doesn't deserve to be snuffed out without explanation, as she'd experienced for _eighteen years_ of her life. Eugene supposes, she's going to have to learn about sex, one way or another. And shouldn't that knowledge be delivered by the person whom she wholeheartedly loves and trusts – the person who loves _her_ so purely right back – rather than delivered by some stuffy etiquette teacher, who is only going to scare her into believing that she's going straight to hell for feeling any human-like desire at all?

No, Rapunzel doesn't deserve that. She deserves far better. She's _always_ deserved more than being completely traumatized into not living her life to the fullest, and Eugene will be _damned_ before he's the person letting that happen to her anymore – especially after quite literally _dying_ for her freedom. And if someone is going to teach her what it means to make someone's pulse point quicken beneath your tongue, what it means to make someone want to beg for you to touch them – what it really means to _want_ someone – well, it's _damn well_ going to be him.

Adjusting to their new position on the bed, Rapunzel is busy hastily pushing her heavy, golden skirts around her waist when a cute, little huff escapes from her nose as the many layers of skirts just won't seem to _get out of the way_ quite fast enough for her liking. The impatience is written all over her easy-to-read face, and Eugene can't help but smile in spite of himself, understanding her impatience all too well.

"Help me, please." She begs frantically, her eyebrows scrunched with the worry of never being able to rid herself of the heavy layers surrounding her bottom half, desperate to _feel him_ without barriers.

Pulling Rapunzel close to him, Eugene helps with pushing the seemingly endless layers of skirt up, forcing them to pool around her waist. He kneels on pushed-together knees on the mattress, gently pushing her own legs apart so that a shaky thigh is positioned on either side of him.

Capturing her lips once more, he prepares to push a gentle finger inside of her, brushing her underwear to the side, just barely grazing the wetness of her center with an intoxicating softness. Eugene feels her lips fall open at the feeling of his fingers there, though her own fingers immediately bunch in the sheets at his touch – his hand never traveling quite so low before – her body coiled insanely tight in obvious anticipation. Eugene pulls back, completely retracting his hand from between her legs and gauging the look on her face, trying to detect any clear signs of stress or discomfort.

There are none. The heavy-eyed princess doesn't look as though she's in pain, per say — there's lust in her eye and love in her expression, but she's wound tighter than he's ever seen her, clearly nervous about this new step in their intimacy. Despite this, Rapunzel's eyes flutter open, her bottom lip pouted, and it's just so damn cute that Eugene almost has to hold back a deep laugh.

"Why did you stop? I want you there." She motions between her legs, completely breathless and looking almost disoriented altogether at the sudden loss of his touch.

"I know you do." Eugene whispers, leaning forward to sweep a finger against her gently, coating it with her tangible desire.

Rapunzel's eyes immediately darken, fluttering shut once more, her chest heaving a little at the teasing action. Eugene can't help but smirk, and she pouts again when he retracts his finger once more, making her watch with wide eyes as he sucks it clean.

"Then why are you teasing me!" The frustrated princess huffs, narrowing her eyes at him in misguided annoyance as she deflates suddenly, whimpering pathetically as she watches him suck on his finger. "You're being mean. I know you are."

Eugene can't help but chuckle at her emotional rollercoaster of an outburst, though his face immediately falls into a more serious expression, gently grabbing a fistful of Rapunzel's hair to force her to look him in the eye.

"Do you trust me?"

"You once told me that doing so would be a horrible, horrible decision."

With this cheeky teasing, Rapunzel leans in to kiss him again. He eagerly kisses her back, their tongues tangling together in a momentary dance as she grips at his collar, desperate to bring him closer. Though, Eugene pulls away far too soon for Rapunzel's liking, as she's grown entirely anxious and jumpy with waiting.

She wants him _now_. Now, now, now. And although Rapunzel doesn't entirely understand what it _is_ that she wants from him, she does understand that her desire for Eugene goes far beyond pure conversation, landing somewhere between her legs and her heart. She doesn't want to talk, she doesn't want to waste precious time discussing what all of this means. Maybe later they can talk about it. Later, she would _love_ to talk about it with him.

But right now, she wants to _feel_ it, wants to feel the adept experience of his hands, pressing from his fingertips and into her skin – skin which burns for him now. She doesn't want him to explain, doesn't want him to tell, and doesn't want the secret of their desire for one another to leave his lips. No, she wants him to _show_. She wants him to show her what that pooling warmth between her legs – the one that she sometimes feels when she's around him, when he kisses her – _really_ means.

And if he doesn't show her what all of this means _soon_ , she's going to scream.

"Very funny, Blondie."

Now, it's Rapunzel's turn to grow serious as she runs a gentle hand through his hair with panted breaths, her impatient desire clear as day.

"Of course I trust you. I always have. You haven't given me a reason not to."

Reaching forward, Eugene caresses the side of her face, making her lean into his touch gratefully.

"Can you try to relax for me then, Blondie? Just... just _feel_. Don't think about anything other than what I'm doing to you right now. Not about the ball, not about all of your princess responsibilities, not about your parents."

He shudders a little, because they definitely shouldn't be doing any of this, especially when taking proper etiquette into account.

" _Especially_ don't think about them. Just think about me, and you, and what you're feeling. It won't be as good for you if you don't, trust me."

Peering down at her expectantly, Eugene's amber eyes are so full of love that Rapunzel is actually _afraid_ for her heart, wondering if it might burst right apart in his hands if he keeps looking at her like that.

"Do you think you can do that for me?"

"I think so." Rapunzel smiles softly, an almost bashful look crossing her face in the dull glow of the candlelight surrounding them.

Eugene reaches for her hands – hands which are trembling with the sheer suspense of it all – tucking them into his, speaking in an earnest tone, his eyes begging her to take what he's saying with complete seriousness.

"And at any point, if I do anything that you don't like, you _have_ to tell me. If you ever want me to stop, I need to know. Don't be afraid to tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable, or if something doesn't feel good for you. You won't hurt my feelings, I promise."

He leans in closer, only slightly, shuddering a desire-laced breath as he squeezes her fingers between his.

"I _really_ want to make you feel good, but don't feel like we have to do anything else tonight. If you get tired, or if something hurts, or if you don't want me to do something, we can stop at any time. If you want, we can always just lay here and talk. Okay?"

"Okay." Rapunzel nods quickly, appreciating his concern, but wishing with her entire being that Eugene would just _stop talking already_ and _show her_ what he means by wanting to make her feel good.

"Promise me that you will."

" _Euuugene_..." Rapunzel laughs quietly, though Eugene looks back at her stoically, completely straight in the face.

Her slight sigh is laced with restlessness as Rapunzel caresses the side of his face reassuringly, truly adoring Eugene for caring about her so much. The inexperienced princess understands that not all men respond to intimacy in such a way as this – some men are overtly hasty, lack gentility, and are completely driven by their own needs, and their needs alone.

To imagine _Eugene_ ever acting in such a way with her, is completely impossible, and Rapunzel is entirely thankful for it.

"Yes." The princess confirms, much to his relief. "I promise that I will tell you if I want to stop."

"And?" Eugene breathes, edging closer to her now, though still maintaining a healthy distance between them – _just_ enough so that Rapunzel can tell him what he needs to hear before going any further with her. So that she can make her promise without being completely clouded in the head by her desire.

It's a distance which she is going to lose her mind over if it's not closed again, and soon.

"I'll tell you if something hurts or doesn't feel good." Rapunzel promises hurriedly – a tad reluctantly – drifting into a sickening desperation to _stop talking already_. "Although, I don't think that's possible with you."

"Thank you. That's all that I needed to hear." Eugene leans in to quickly kiss her lips, needing the reassurance, needing her to feel unconditionally _safe_ with him.

Rapunzel aches for more, but – much to the princess's frustration – Eugene pulls away _again_ , desperate to create a comfortable environment for her. After all, they've only been living together in the castle for about three months now, and Rapunzel is still very much _adjusting_ to the world around her, and all of the overwhelming feelings (both good and bad) that come with it – which is _exactly_ why Eugene has been taking the progress of their physical relationship incredibly – almost _painfully_ – slow.

She'd only just started questioning him about sex nearly a month prior to tonight, when she'd discovered a few books about reproduction and intercourse in the library. They'd only begun exploring one another's bodies more frequently since then, when she'd finally gathered the courage to start sneaking into his bed at night. When she'd finally understood that there's a deep, driving… _instinctual_ _reason_ which explains why she wants to sneak around to make out with him in the first place.

Eugene had heavily considered letting her parents broach such an intimate subject with the princess, having fully understood that it's a subject of incredible delicacy. He hadn't wanted to overstep in this still fairly new environment: both because of the situation in which she'd grown up, and because she's the damn _princess_. Not only does Eugene not want to freak her out – afraid of causing Rapunzel to spiral emotionally after realizing that she'd gone so long being unaware of something _so essential_ to life on earth – but he doesn't want the king and queen to be upset with him for suggesting that _he_ be the one to broach a subject with her which would imminently be deemed as wildly inappropriate.

Frankly, Eugene is still trying to find his place with Rapunzel's parents – trying to find a balance with them, not wanting to step on any toes, but not wanting to diminish the importance of his relationship with her, either. While Rapunzel has been busy trying to build a relationship with her parents after losing eighteen years with them, she's been equally as busy trying to build a healthy relationship with him, too.

Not that it's been difficult, per say. The intimacy of their relationship, even when the world around them isn't, has always come so easy to them.

While Eugene had gotten on quite well with them from the beginning (well, mostly with Arianna. Frederic, on the other hand, he's still working on. After all, the man had understandably signed his _death warrant_ only three, short months ago), and while the king and queen had graciously taken him into their home (despite having every reason not to), Eugene still doesn't feel entirely sure of what's considered acceptable between he and Rapunzel, and what isn't. He's _assuming_ that allowing her to sneak into his bed at night, and allowing her to ditch out on important balls, isn't exactly acceptable, and doesn't exactly align with his promise to keep the active princess out of trouble.

But what the hell? The girl was locked away from eighteen years. And, just like anyone else, she deserves a healthy dose of teenage rebellion every now and again. As long as he's always there to look out for her, what harm could it really do?

Although he could've broached the subject of Rapunzel's curiosity toward her newfound sexuality with the king and queen, Eugene hadn't wanted Rapunzel to feel embarrassed, either. He _definitely_ hadn't wanted to betray the deep trust of their fledgling – though exceptionally tightknit – relationship by airing Rapunzel's deepest, darkest thoughts and curiosities to her _parents_ of all people. Eugene hadn't wanted to treat these thoughts as though they were nothing more to him than dirty laundry which she would probably be scolded for having, all because they weren't married yet or some royal bullshit.

As though it weren't made _painfully_ obvious – even in their first weeks together – that he intends to marry her someday, anyway.

Frankly, Eugene has never been one to understand the whole _'waiting until marriage'_ thing – clearly, he hadn't. But that was only because he hadn't had a good enough _reason_ to wait, hadn't had a parental figure around to teach him otherwise. Truthfully, Eugene hadn't had _anyone_ who cared enough about him to let him know that waiting for your true love, is probably a decent plan of action. Some days, he wishes that he'd waited for her, regretful of his past carelessness. Other days (like today), Eugene is simply glad that Rapunzel has someone like him to help her along the sometimes scary road of physical intimacy with another person, especially in her stuffy, overly-regulated environment.

Eugene hadn't _had that_ when he was growing up – which is probably why he'd lost his virginity to _Stalyan_ of all people at a mere fifteen.

But things are different now. Rapunzel has him to help her through things like this. But mostly, things are different because she is a _princess_ – a princess who he would die to protect, a princess who Eugene would _give up his life_ to ensure that she is kept safe at all costs. And because being a princess brings about an increasingly large array of _'do's and don'ts'_ for her to somehow live by.

 **Don't #1:** Don't have sex before marriage, and _definitely_ don't have sex with once-convicted criminals. Because the world surely doesn't need any more of those.

Well, Rapunzel (now that she's become painfully aware of the possibility in the recent weeks), is pretty much hell-bent on breaking that _'don't'_ at some point, and Eugene isn't about to allow her to be shamed for that – not after being shamed for just about everything for almost two decades. To say that he's protective of Rapunzel – maybe it has something to do with the lingering trauma of climbing her tower, only to see her gagged and chained on the floor – is an understatement, and never allowing her to feel ashamed again is a silent promise which Eugene had made to himself quite a while ago.

Selfishly, Eugene actually _wants_ to be the one to teach her about such delicate things, to be the one to guide her through the intimate journey of physical affection. He knows that if he's _not_ the one to guide Rapunzel through this, everyone around her is inevitably going to fill the princess's sweet, trusting head with fear about sex, long before he has the chance to convince her that it doesn't have to be quite as scary as most everyone in this castle, aside from him, will make it out to be.

Of course, there's a safe, responsible way in which Eugene must go about all of this (something that he's not entirely used to doing quite yet, after years of living in reckless abandon), but she shouldn't have to live in fear. Rapunzel had spent her entire life before meeting him _locked_ _away_ _in a tower,_ having her head filled with utter lies, convinced that she should be afraid of things that she needn't be afraid of.

Eugene is going to let _that_ continue over his dead body – literally. And one thing that he really doesn't want her to be afraid of, is the unfair consequence of feeling completely _natural_ desire.

"Just one more request, Blondie."

The princess nods frantically, listening intently, albeit impatiently.

"I also want you to tell me if something _does_ feel good." Eugene brushes a hand through her hair, watching as she nuzzles into his touch, desperate for more. "Remember how we talked about those little, accidental noises that slip out sometimes when we kiss, or when I touch you?"

Rapunzel perks up at that, almost ignorant to the suggestive way that his hand caresses the side of her neck now, ultimately pulling her just a tiny bit closer as she recalls the breathy moans which fall from her lips any time that he kisses that very spot on her neck.

"Yes! I remember. _Moaning_."

Rapunzel wiggles her eyebrows playfully at him, and the innocence of it all somehow makes Eugene want her even more.

This seems to be a regular occurrence between them: she says something completely ignorant or innocent, something entirely off-the-cuff (not because it's her fault, but because she simply doesn't know any better yet), and it becomes actually _painful_ for Eugene not to teach her – or, better yet, to _show her_ the truth.

Regardless, he can't help but chuckle a little at her adorable innocence, because her expression – as it so often does – so loudly screams: _'I remembered something that_ _ **you**_ _taught me! Are you proud of me?_ _ **Please**_ _be proud of me!'_

After eighteen years of being constantly belittled, Eugene had quickly noticed that Rapunzel has quite the habit of seeking validation from others – especially from him. And who would he be to not give something so simple to her?

"Yeah, Blondie, moaning. You're so smart for remembering."

She beams at that, and Eugene swears that she's infinitely brighter than the sun itself – especially in the dull light of his bedroom, the only light provided to them being the glow of a few, golden candles at his bedside and on the mantle.

"So, if I do something that you _like_ , never be afraid to let me know." Eugene explains to her quietly. "Because I _really_ want to know that. You can moan, you can talk to me. Never be embarrassed to show me what feels good, because I have to know that, too."

Even though he's always gentle with her, Rapunzel has never heard Eugene talk to her quite so tenderly – so _softly_ – a calloused hand in her hair, lips dangerously close to brushing against hers as he speaks words which, to her, feel so… _naughty_ , somehow. Her fingers begin to itch, desperate to touch him, the place between her legs growing pitifully warm as his voice whispers to her: low, and damp, and laced with a curious combination of lust and the careful desire to ensure that she feels completely safe with him.

"It's just me and you here. Okay? Nothing to worry about."

Eugene says this, only because she tends to get a little nervous when they try something new, even during the non-sexual. Perhaps this anxiousness stems from her brain when presented with a new experience due to that pesky desire for validation – a desire which isn't her fault whatsoever, but the result of unfair trauma. A desire which she's had to work incredibly hard in the last three months to even _begin_ to shake.

Regardless of what it is that he's trying to show or teach her, Rapunzel always takes his direction in stride, and she's always been an impressively fast learner. But Eugene has easily noticed the look of worry that consistently crosses her face when trying something new, that insecure look which so clearly reads: _'I'm not sure what to do. What if I don't do this right? What if everyone laughs at me for not knowing about this yet? Why did I have to have eighteen years of my life_ _ **stolen**_ _from me?'_

And although Rapunzel is ever-presently curious, and even more admiringly positive in the midst of the hardest of circumstances, her confidence could use a little work. This is completely understandable, after being raised by an evil woman who put her down every chance that she got, if only to ensure that the young girl would never be wise or brave enough to finally leave that tower.

Eugene doesn't want Rapunzel to feel that way now, not _ever_ again — he wants her to feel good, and safe, and protected by him, and like she can't think straight by the end of it all.

"Okay." Rapunzel cocks her head at him, a playful smile on her lips, though her voice leaves her mouth hushed and shaky. "Can you kiss me now?"

"Well, if you insist, Blondie." Eugene teases back, guiding her in for a soft kiss, their position almost reminiscent of their almost-kiss in the boat on the night of the lanterns.

Even though Rapunzel would never _admit_ her apprehension aloud, Eugene can feel it, her anxiousness coursing through her veins wildly. He's always been able to read her so well, able to decipher the words and thoughts which her mouth won't speak of, but her body isn't used to having to hide from those around her. Even though Rapunzel quite obviously feels an aching lust within her, she's clearly nervous about taking this next step in their relationship, and Eugene can feel it as he holds her in his hands.

This ability to read her comes in handy now, as Eugene runs his fingers along her back, gently caressing the parts of her which are exposed in her fancy dress, and the parts of her which are undeniably tensed. She relaxes a bit at his touch, her shoulders falling from their tensed position as she kisses him with a newfound fervor, as though she were wordlessly thanking him for always understanding her so well.

Eugene pulls away, breathless from the heated kiss, wanting to give Rapunzel a moment to recollect her thoughts if needed. The _last_ thing that he wants to do, is make her feel as though she were being pulled so deep into the bog of lust, that she can't back out if she isn't ready for this step in their intimacy quite yet.

So, he simply stares at her sitting there in front of him, holding her wide gaze, rubbing gentle circles into her back as he murmurs to her quietly. Eugene's eyes flutter shut as she leans forward to rest her forehead against his, breathing her in as she relaxes against him, her lavender-like scent calming him just as much.

"That's my girl. Just relax."

"Eugene?" She breathes against his lips, her voice almost ghost-like.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Rapunzel remains evocatively close to him, keeping their foreheads pressed together as she whimpers softly, painfully aware of the way that his hand has moved from her waist to find its way under her heavy skirts, gently tracing circles into her bare thigh, his free hand still planted firmly at her neck. Her eyes are closed tight, and she looks as though she's almost about to cry – though, Eugene knows that look, and he knows that it's not one of typical anguish or pain.

Actually, it's quite the opposite.

"I want you."

These are words which Eugene has wanted to hear falling from her painfully innocent lips for a while now (though he's never wanted to push her into saying them too fast), words which cause his stomach to clench in the way that somehow feels good. 

"I know." He whispers back, voice a bit strangled now, his desire spiking as a result of feeding off of hers. "I want you, too. Trust me."

This vulnerable confession causes Rapunzel to shift on the mattress, her thighs spreading just a bit wider – wordlessly inviting him there – eyes fluttering open to stare at him with a dark, hooded look. Her expression almost appears to be a little _sad_ , as though the impatience of the moment is entirely too much for her to handle with grace.

"Touch me, please. I don't want to wait anymore."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, studying her face closely, terrified of pushing her too far for one night. "We don't have to do this yet."

The princess nods feverishly, eyes fallen shut once more as his finger teases the dripping spot between her legs, voice airy and faint.

"Yes. _More_ than okay." She swallows – hard – hips involuntarily rocking against him as his finger slides a little deeper inside of her, her palm bracing against his steady shoulder as she falls forward and into the bliss of him. "P-please… I need you to show me."

So he does, finger pushed inside of her completely – his touch still agonizingly gentle, but now lacking reluctance as she confirms her desire. He'd only been reluctant because he's so terrified of pushing her too quickly - terrified that she doesn't want him as much as he always wants her, simply because she doesn't understand that want quite yet. 

"Hey, Blondie?" Eugene asks, almost breathless as he watches her, completely _memorized_ as her mouth falls open at his touch, head tilted slightly back.

He loves so much that he's the one making her feel this way, and he never wants to stop.

"Uh huh?"

"I love you. And you look so fucking beautiful right now."

Rapunzel lets out a breathy laugh in response to his blunt, lewd words – a laugh which quickly tumbles into a pitiful moan as he adds a second, tentative finger, boring into her a bit harder as she grinds her hips down onto them. 

"Oh, I love you, too!"

She gasps quietly, thighs trembling around his hand, her cute, little noises sending Eugene careening down a steep cliff of deep, heart-aching emotion – something which he _never_ used to feel when engaging in such activities as this. And, honestly, although he's never been one to deny being the giver of pleasure just as much as the receiver, he's never felt as though he could get off right now, simply from being on the giving end, watching.

Until now, watching intently as he gently guides her to lie down, cradling her head with one hand as she slowly falls, never stopping the steady rhythm of his fingers within her as they change positions.

"Blondie?"

"Yeah?"

Eugene watches as her head falls back into his pillows, short hair splayed about them messily, voice so shaky that he's not completely sure if she's capable of speaking more than a barely-coherently word or two. Her scent is surely going to linger in his bed for a while after all of this is over, and he's entirely okay with that.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me." 

Normally, Eugene isn't one to talk much during sexual activities. As crude as it may sound, he'd always been more than content when the girl that he was with would shut up, give him what he wanted, and move on with her life.

But not Rapunzel. No, he wants her to know _exactly_ what he's feeling right now, exactly how in love with her he truly is. He wants her to feel cherished, and adored, and he wants her to understand that, without her, he would be so damn lost.

"Y-you're… _mmm_ … you're the best thing that ever happened to me, too."

In the wake of her lust-laced words, and in the wake of her rising her hips to meet his hand whenever it bores deep inside of her, Eugene quickens the pace of his fingers, pressing his thumb gently to the bundle of nerves between her legs. Before long, her head is spinning sickeningly fast, completely clouded, thighs shaking violently around him as she pants his name.

" _Eugene_... s-something... something is happening!"

Eugene watches her closely as Rapunzel's head falls back once more, though her eyes quickly snap open, looking to him for guidance, worry filling her green irises as she frantically tries to fist the sheets; she's preparing herself for an end which she doesn't completely understand quite yet, but is surely about to. Desperate to. 

"I don't know what to do! I feel like... like I'm going to burst apart! _Eugene_ , I-I don't know –"

He suddenly pulls Rapunzel to him, quickly sitting her uptight now. The sudden motion rips her trembling fingers away from the satin sheets that she's been fisting, though Eugene doesn't slow the pace of his hand as she tries to readjust herself to the new position.

"Let go, Sunshine. Just let go. That's all you need to do for me."

" _Oh_... oh, my God..."

This is all that she says in return – all that she has the _energy_ to say as she allows her heavy eyelids to fall closed, succumbing to the most intense form of pleasure that she's ever experienced – wanting to look at his face as he makes her feel this way, but not feeling strong enough to keep them open as she does what he says, letting go completely.

Rapunzel sits there on her knees before him on the mattress, her jaw slack, head tipped back, grinding herself shamelessly down onto his fingers as they ride out her first orgasm together. His mind (which has been sent flying straight into the gutter at the perfect sight of her) betraying him completely, Eugene can't help but imagine her grinding down on _another part of him_ – though he knows full well that they probably can't go that far for a _long_ time.

But that's perfectly okay. It's _more_ than okay, actually, because he can wait. He _will_ wait. Pleasuring her alone is enough. Watching her like this – watching her mouth fall open, feeling her heart pounding in her chest because of him, listening to her sweet voice moaning his name in a pitiful, _beautiful_ way that she's never spoken it before – it's all _more_ than enough for now. It's enough, because no one has ever moaned his real name before, and because she is so worth waiting for. Hell, this night alone will probably be imprinted in his mind for weeks to come: the sound, and the scent, and the vision, and the _feeling_ of her lingering in his ears, and behind his eyes, and on his fingertips forever. She would be a permanent part of him forever, as though he were always carrying her around in his back pocket, or wearing her like an invisible locket around his neck. 

Besides, she's never looked as gorgeous as she does right now, breathing out weepy moans as she lets go in the golden candlelight as he'd begged her to do, repeating his name over and over as she cums for him, looking like she actually might _cry_ in pleasure.

"Eugene, it feels... it's just so… God, it's _so_ good! You're so good at this…"

She's rambling now, a bit embarrassingly – completely overtaken by what his fingers have done to her – but she doesn't care, and neither does he. If it were anyone else doing this to her, Rapunzel would definitely be embarrassed. But she isn't, because she loves him and he loves her, and no one else could make her feel like this, anyway. Actually, Eugene is starting to feel positively _dizzy_ at her breathy rambling, never really wanting it to stop.

"Yeah?" The former thief smirks knowingly, urging his fingers a bit deeper as she rides out her seemingly endless orgasm. "Are you sure you want me to keep going, Princess?"

" _Yes_..." She buries her face into his neck, whimpering pathetically against the collar of Eugene's starched dress shirt as his fingers bear deep inside of her, hard and fast – though, Rapunzel is so far gone in the sensation of it all to really be self-conscious of her uncontrollable reactions to what he's making her feel right now.

Besides, it's only Eugene (and she knows that this is a secret which he will keep firmly pressed to the inside of his vest, hidden), and he'd specifically asked her to voice her desire. Rapunzel couldn't hold it in if she wanted to, anyway, and Eugene had promised that teaching her about all of this wouldn't be anything but a good, safe experience for her. 

And it is! _God_ , it's _**so**_ _good!_ _He's_ so good, so perfect for her! This is good in the way that she'd never imagined it could be. Rapunzel has been wrong for weeks now – so, utterly wrong! All of the books that she's been pouring over lately, desperate to understand… they don't explain this feeling well enough _at all!_ She hadn't known that it would feel like… like _this._ That it would feel so gently violent, and that she would feel even more in love with him as a result. 

"Yes! Yes... oh, Eugene… please, _please_ don't stop..." The princess begs pathetically, clinging to his steady frame, caught up in the frantic thoughts shuffling through her head – thoughts like: _'I never want this to be over, and I never want anyone but him to make me feel this way.'_

And _Eugene's_ head starts to feel like its a thousand feet underwater as she pulls back to look at him, drowning him in the sound of her desperate pleas for her release to never end.

He wouldn't even imagine stopping, wouldn't imagine taking this from her.

Her legs have long-since clamped harshly around his hand, and Rapunzel's own hand flies out as her orgasm peaks and rapidly begins to fall, latching onto his working wrist for some kind of purchase, desperately needing something to grab onto. Eugene takes her by the back of the head with his free hand, caressing her hair lovingly – though, he's careful not to pull her too closely to him, wanting to fully see her face as she absolutely falls apart in his hands for the first time.

"Good girl. Just ride it out..."

Eugene actually feels a little sick just watching her as she cums – in a good way, somehow – like he's never seen anything so perfect in his entire life, and his body isn't sure how to accept that this perfect thing is actually _his_. That, for the first time, something actually belongs to him – something heartbreakingly _beautiful_. He genuinely can't stop staring at her: her deeply flushed cheeks, her fluttering eyelashes, and her shameless display of the euphoria which threatens to rip her right apart.

After she pulses around his fingers for a few, long moments, her body eventually relaxes for the final time, ultimately slumping against his chest, pressing lazy kisses to his neck as Rapunzel tries her best to even her heavy breathing. Eventually, having caught her breath enough, she pulls away slightly, looking up at him with an expression of pure love and slight curiosity.

"Eugene, what..." Rapunzel's eyes flutter shut as she speaks, as though she were trying to engrain the memory of this intimate moment into the lining of her brain, her tightly-clamped, tensed thighs finally releasing from around his hand. "What _was_ that?"

"How do you feel?" Eugene reaches up to caress her face, making sure that she's okay – although, the look of pure sedation on her face lets him know that she is.

"I've never felt anything so good in my entire _life!_ " The still-panting princess exclaims, falling back onto the mattress, completely spent and donning a rather goofy smile.

Eugene falls to her side, rolling close to her, propping his face up in the palm of his hand to look at her with a proud grin of his own. It feels good to know that he's made _her_ feel so good, and Eugene realizes (though he's never had much of a doubt) that he wants to make her feel that good for the rest of her life.

"It was like... like my brain was going to explode, and like my body was going to fly apart at the same time, and like it would feel so amazing if they did."

"Well…" Eugene places his fingers upon her once more, lazily drawing patterns on her shoulder – an utter contrast to what his fingers had been doing to her only mere minutes before. "You know how you've been learning about reproduction the last few weeks? From those books that you found in the library?"

"Mhmm." Rapunzel nods, recalling the _interesting_ looking books which she'd discovered only several weeks ago, and how she'd cornered Eugene in his bathroom and asked him to explain everything to her when she'd found them.

In the time being, Rapunzel had approached her mom about the subject, too – although, _that_ conversation hadn't been quite as informational, or quite as satisfying as the one that she'd had with Eugene. It had been more flushed cheeks and incredibly vague explanations about how, _'When you're older, when you're_ _ **married**_ _…_ _ **if**_ _you marry Eugene,_ _you will…_ _ **give**_ _yourselves to one another…'_

Then, Rapunzel hadn't been entirely sure of what her mother had meant by ' _giving_ herself' to Eugene. Thankfully, Eugene had taken a much more direct approach with explaining the whole thing to her, which Rapunzel is quite grateful for.

And suddenly, tonight, all of the innuendos, all of the code words, all of the embarrassed looks when the seemingly-delicate subject is broached… it all makes sense. It all makes sense, why she feels the way that she does around him. Rapunzel understands now that there _is_ a reason for the warmth which often grows between her legs after all – that there is an actual, tangible end result worth yearning for.

"Well _that_ , my sweet girl, was your first orgasm. You came for me. Some people call it cumming." Eugene explains gently, drawing a heart on her shoulder with a feather-light finger. "It's one of the best feelings in the whole world, and the part of intercourse when you climax."

" _Cumming_..." Rapunzel mimics the strange, new word which he's provided to her, bringing a tentative finger to her mouth, as if to analyze how the word feels on her lips for the first time.

"Mhmm."

Eugene looks at her lovingly, and the princess feels infinitely grateful that he would never even _think_ to judge her for not knowing all of this already, despite her age. He's always so beautifully patient with her, so completely gentle, and she loves that about him so very much. She loves everything about him, really.

Mostly because Rapunzel had quickly been forced to understand that not everyone in this new, vast world will be so patient with her unchosen ignorance, and not everyone will love her like he does in spite of it. And perhaps that's why Eugene is the only one who could ever make her feel the things that she's just finished feeling.

"Does it always feel that way?" Rapunzel wonders, a dreamy, faraway look in her eye, clearly still coming down a bit, her legs still shaking.

"Well, maybe not for _everyone_. But if you actually let me stick around for a while, it will." Eugene teases, tickling her side as she ducks away, giggling. "But yes, it's supposed to feel mind-numbingly good like that. We can both do it, actually. Have you read about that?"

Rapunzel thinks on this for a moment, mentally shuffling through the extensive catalog of new information and experiences which she's gained in only a few months.

"I think so..." She trails off, thinking hard. "I've also read about something called _ejaculation,_ which seems to be similar… but the books that I found aren't incredibly descriptive or anything. I had _no idea_ that it would happen that way, or that it would feel so good." The princess glances to him nervously for confirmation, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed. "Is that the same thing?"

"Kind of. If I were to climax, it would be called ejaculating. If I were to ever do it inside of you, there would be the potential of us making a baby." Eugene leans in – as if to share a big secret with her –lowering his voice subsequently, despite their safe spot in his bedroom. "That's part of the reason why we aren't supposed to have sex yet, and why we probably won't for a while. At least, not until we're married."

"So that I don't get pregnant outside of wedlock?" Rapunzel mimics the same phrase which one of her etiquette instructors has reiterated – a _lot_.

"So you don't get pregnant out of wedlock. Exactly." Eugene reaches up to ruffle her choppy hair, which is a bit of a mess now, thanks to him. "You're so smart."

Rapunzel beams at that, always eagerly drinking up his compliments.

"And… and sex is supposed to feel even _better_ than what just happened?"

Eyebrows drawn up in disbelief, Rapunzel looks as though she might not believe him if he says yes, and Eugene can't entirely comprehend how he found someone quite as adorable as her.

"I would say so, yes. It'll hurt for you the first few times, but that doesn't last forever. My dick is a lot bigger than my finger, so you'll just have to adjust to it when it's the right time. That's why you get so wet when you want me, so it doesn't hurt so much. But once you _do_ adjust to me, it'll feel a million times better."

He reaches forward, pressing a gentle finger to her slightly-pouted lip as Rapunzel looks to him a bit worriedly now, clearly caught off guard by the thought of _pain_ possibly being attached to the kind of thing that he'd only just made her feel.

"I promise. Besides, we don't have to worry about that for a while, anyway."

"But do you, I mean… do you think you'll ever cum… _with_ me?" She looks to him with curious – albeit rather anxious – eyes, another nervous look crossing the young princess's face after blurting the intimate question, wringing her hands together. "I mean, would you ever... do you want to? Someday?"

Eugene leans forward to peck her lips quickly, attempting to wash away any embarrassment or anxiousness in the wake of her burning curiosity.

"Oh, I'm _counting_ on it, Sunshine."

"But you've done it before, yes? You'll know what to expect?" Rapunzel doesn't look angry when she says this, only curious, which he's thankful for.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I have done it a lot of times before meeting you." Eugene sighs deeply, not always proud to admit some of the less-attractive aspects of his past to her. "I wish I hadn't. I so wish that you could be my first, like I'll be yours. I wish that I would've met you sooner, and maybe I wouldn't have made so many stupid decisions. But that's just not what happened, I guess."

He tries to force a smile, not wanting to make her feel bad. But, to Eugene's surprise, Rapunzel only shrugs, reaching over to run a loving, lazy hand through his hair.

"That's okay, Eugene. You had an entire life before you met me, and I would never expect you to deny that. You've had so many adventures… it's not your fault that _you_ were my first adventure. I don't hold that against you."

"Really?" He cocks his head, surprised (not to mention, Eugene's heart positively _melts_ at the whole, _'you were my first adventure'_ comment).

A lot of girls can be exceptionally territorial about things like this – sometimes, it upset them, and sometimes, jealousy grows like green envy within their hearts at the thought of whoever came before them. Perhaps the notion doesn't upset Rapunzel because she simply doesn't know any better. Regardless, Eugene is thankful that she doesn't seem inclined to hold his past against him on this one.

Then again, she never has. She'd always met him right where he was – once, as an untrustworthy thief – meeting him with graceful redemption and second chances, blind trust and the most unconditional love that Eugene ever could've wished for. Now, she always meets him right where he is – an imperfect man, trying to be the best that he can be for her sake – a man trying his best to _change_ for her. Really, Rapunzel has never once felt inclined to hold against Eugene the person that he'd been before her.

So, really, why would she do it concerning this – something that she's only now beginning to understand?

"How could I? I think it's actually a good thing that at least _one_ of us has experience with this, so that you can teach me." Shuffling on the mattress to readjust her skewed skirts, Rapunzel adopts a teasing tone of voice. "Like I said, the books that I found aren't incredibly _descriptive_ or anything. And I would much prefer for you to be the one explaining it, anyway. Or showing me."

"Well, there you go. Always looking on the bright side, Sunshine. That's what I love about you." Eugene leans forward, kissing her warmed forehead. "Besides, I already know that it's going to feel a million times better than it ever has when I finally get to do it with you."

"When you marry me someday!" She exclaims cutely, bouncing up on her elbows, face falling into her palms as she looks to him with pure excitement at the thought of their future together.

"When I marry you someday." Eugene confirms with a satisfied chuckle, wanting to remain collected, but really just as giddy at the thought of forever as she is. "Now, what do you say we get you back to that ball of yours, Princess?"

Rapunzel falls back against the headboard, groaning loudly at the idea, covering her face with a pillow as if to hide from the thought. Laughing, he tries to coax her to look at him again, successfully taking the pillow from her hands, only because she can't go without looking at his face for too long.

"You know, before the entire castle goes into full-on lockdown mode because the princess is lost? _Again?_ "

Eugene tries his very best to reason with her, worried that he's _never_ going to be strong enough to talk her into leaving his bed and going back to the ball upstairs. The notion looks positively bleak as the spirited princess climbs under the blankets.

"I'm not exactly trying to have a noose around my neck by morning, Blondie."

"Uh-uh." Rapunzel yawns loudly, shaking her head, her tousled hair falling around her pretty face. "Let's stay right here, just for a little while longer. Your bed is so comfy, and it's already so late, and no one will even miss us."

"Sure they will!" Eugene exclaims anxiously, gently shaking Rapunzel's shoulder in an attempt to save her from this drowsy state of hers – which is completely his own fault. "You're the damn _princess!_ Someone will notice if you go missing, and _I'll_ be the one to get blamed for it, because I'm supposed to keep you _out_ of trouble, and –"

" _Eugene_. It'll be fine. Stop worrying." She yawns again, settling comfily into his sheets. "Five minutes." The princess states simply, clearing not searching for a negotiation, her eyes slowly drifting shut.

And suddenly, watching her lying there so peacefully, Eugene realizes how tired he is, too – not only due to their recent _activities_ – but due to the long night that they'd had, forcing pleasant interaction with all of those stuffy, arrogant nobles. It has to be at _least_ past one o'clock by now, if not even earlier in the morning. These palace parties, Eugene had quickly learned, tend to go on well into the early morning hours. When they'd snuck out to the garden what feels like forever ago now, tonight's party hadn't shown the signs of stopping any time soon.

"Alright…" Eugene releases a long yawn in spite of himself, his own eyes drifting shut as he settles beside her in the pillows, wrapping her up in his arms. "But just for a _little_ while, and then I'm bringing you back to say goodnight to your parents."

"Mmm… okay." Rapunzel responds halfheartedly, already half-asleep, snuggling against his chest contentedly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Sunshine."

And a few hours will pass, and they'll fall into a deep, peaceful slumber there in his bed, still dressed in their fancy ball clothes. And, having been drug deep into the night, dreaming there beside him, she'll awaken with a start as the golden, warm sun is just beginning to rise in the sky above her kingdom. Eyelids fluttering open, her green irises will immediately be greeted by the wonderful sight of his handsome face: a sight which she would beg and plead to be greeted with forever. A gentle smile will cross her lips as she remembers the previous night – as she remembers the things that he made her feel, the way that he'd pushed her so far over the edge that Rapunzel is completely sure that she'll never be able to recover from the fall.

She'll nudge him awake gently as she whispers a soft _'I'll see you later, have a good day'_ , and she'll rush back to her own bedroom before her chambermaids arrive to awaken her, bare feet pattering on the cold marble floor, pressing a quick kiss to half-asleep lips before she leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her – though, he assumes, she'll probably be back later tonight.

And he'll lie there for a little while after she's gone, listening to her feet padding softly against the floor as she goes, not entirely liking the way that the bed feels so empty without her, contemplating the candlelit memory of the perfect night before.

He'll lie there, thanking the heavens that he'd given up that crown for something far, _far_ better.


	2. Envy Green as Her Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with Chapter 2 of 'The Lost Year,' which takes place on the night of the spring solstice ball, in which Rapunzel is faced with an ugly emotion which is still fairly new to her – one that she essentially hadn't had to face for eighteen years, but has dealt a lot with in the last nine months of living in the castle (and subsequently attending balls) with Eugene. In this chapter, Eugene will attempt to reassure Rapunzel of her unnecessary worries in the only way that he can. But will he succeed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired to write this chapter while I was re-reading Chapter 15 of Killing Me Slowly, which briefly touches on Rapunzel's jealousy about the attention that Eugene often receives from other women. This is a reoccurring emotion which Rapunzel visits while attending the party that Charles had thrown for her in that chapter, painfully aware of the longing looks which her true love so frequently receives. I was also inspired to write this chapter while listening to the song Fire Breather by LAUREL. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Envy Green as Her Eyes**

It's been nine months.

Nine months of peacefully living in the castle. Nine golden, _wonderful_ months together. Nine months of counting the stars overhead, and chasing one another through the palace gardens, and getting to know one another like the back of their hands. Nine months of falling so in love that it's actually a little pitiful (or so Cassandra crudely likes to claim). Nine months of yearning gazes and longing looks – looks which they would _like_ to believe no one else notices, although they probably do. Discretion can only take you quite so far.

It's been nine months of shamelessly playing cat and mouse, a wickedly intriguing game of _'If you'll listen, I'll teach you everything that you could ever want to know.'_ Nine months of wondering _just how far_ they can push the boundaries right under her parents' noses – boundaries which include strict rules such as: _'Don't let that man touch you in the 'wrong way' before he puts a ring on your finger.'_

Subsequently, it's been nine months of pushing those boundaries harder and further, nine months of bare feet padding on cold, marble floors, evading a string of guards who would surely usher her back into her own bed if they were to happen upon their ever-curious, always _mischievous_ princess. Nine months of sneaking into _his_ bed in the middle of the night, nine months of letting him touch her _everywhere_ that she could possibly want him – even though she knows that she probably shouldn't, if she were to take the advice of her etiquette instructor into consideration at all (though, she rarely does).

It's been nine months of moaning his name in the middle of the night, letting it linger there on the back of her tongue – loving the way that she's the only woman who's ever had the pleasure of saying it. Nine months of him covering her mouth with a hasty hand, reminding her to be quiet, so that their midnight secrets won't have to become something to be scolded for in the daylight. Nine months of stealthily sneaking back to her own, cold bed as the morning sun breaks over her kingdom, cheeks flushed a healthy pink color from the satisfying warmth of sleeping there beside him (and sometimes, from the satisfaction of doing much _more_ than just sleeping).

It's been nine months of carrying the hefty weight of her crown upon her head, nine months of carrying the even _heavier_ weight of her responsibility and lifelong commitment to her kingdom upon her shoulders everywhere that she goes. Nine months of desperately trying to master how to be the always-kind, dependable, and elegant princess that _they_ need her to be, while simultaneously trying to be the loving, supportive partner that _he_ needs her to be – a balance which has not been entirely easy for Rapunzel to accomplish, only because she so desperately does not want him to be swallowed by her lifelong duty to her people: a duty which will inevitably try its very best to compete with her duty to _him_.

It's been nine months of Eugene essentially being the only thing capable of keeping her together at all, frequently reminding Rapunzel that being free from her tower – that finally being able to reside outside of those tower walls, living out her true destiny with _him_ by her side – is well worth the grand amount of pressure which comes with being a princess. Now, she has a purpose worth fighting for: the purpose of helping her people, of giving them a hope to hold onto. The purpose of someday creating a better kingdom for them – a purpose which easily beats out her _prior_ purpose of being exploited in order to keep an evil, selfish woman young and healthy forever. This stress is well worth the significant weight which her destiny holds.

_He_ is well worth it, if nothing else is. And he so effectively keeps her strung together when the rest of the world is threatening to rip the strings of her heart clean off, and when she insecurely begins to wonder if she is quite as capable of this whole _princess thing_ as everyone so strongly believes her to be.

It's been nine months of stuffy balls, and never-ending parties, and expensive banquets. Nine months of droning conversation with noble diplomats – diplomats who will never quite understand her childhood trauma, or her tendency to get a bit anxious at such functions. And, in turn, such diplomats will never quite understand why a princess would lack the properness to – at the very _least_ – wear a simple pair of _shoes!_

It's been nine months of balls, and parties, and banquets – all of which are always overflowing with a sea of guests who will never be able to understand her in the intimate, easy way that he does. They will never be able to analyze her every emotion by the otherwise unreadable look in her eye, will never be keen to the _slight_ shaking of her hands, and will never be able to determine when she's pushed herself enough for one night. Only _he_ is capable of noticing when she has plunged her mind into a series of insecure, trauma-induced thoughts – the harsh fingers of Gothel still laying a ghostly touch upon her seemingly-freed self from time to time, the past sometimes lingering like a bad taste.

After all, it's only been nine months.

It's been nine months of foreign, _beautiful_ young women being invited to such balls, parties, and banquets.

Nine months of said young women clearly displaying the lust for him on their faces, as though it weren't something worth keeping a well-guarded secret. Isn't the longing – longing for _him_ – _supposed_ to be a secret? Isn't the yearning supposed to be something special, something to be kept only between the two of them in the form of hidden desire, the brushes of a hand in court, and lustful, secret looks? Isn't that what he'd so expertly taught her to believe?

"Something's bothering you."

Eugene easily murmurs the quiet accusation against her skin, his tone sure and confident, as though his mouth weren't currently busy doing things that really shouldn't include any _talking_. Then again, he's always been a wonderful multi-tasker, and she loves the sound of his voice any time, even now.

_Especially_ now.

He doesn't even have to look up at her to know that he's right, having taken plenty of time to memorize her every shifted expression, her every miniscule reaction, her every fast-changing emotion. Everything about her is imprinted into his mind, threaded into the palms of his hands, her taste permanently on the back of his tongue, and her insecurities something that he's been made painfully aware of after sharing endless heart-to-hearts with her in the middle of the night for the last nine months.

"It's nothing." Rapunzel breathes hard, her shaky voice devoid of any true reassurance, her chest heaving slightly in response to his warm tongue meeting the place that she wants him most. "I'm fine."

Very early on – no more than a week deep into knowing her – Eugene had learned something about his sweet princess: Rapunzel has a very curious _thing_ for bottling up her emotions without really meaning to (an understandable trauma response, more than anything else), shoving them down so deeply inside of herself that she essentially won't have to feel them anymore, terrified that she might somehow upset someone for having them.

Always selfless, and always far more concerned with others than with herself, that one. It's something that Eugene both loves and hates about her – only because he has always wanted more for Rapunzel than having to continue to put her own needs on the backburner. As if she hadn't done _that_ for eighteen years.

Rapunzel so often shoves any objectively negative feelings of hers deep down, if only so that she won't have to be anything but perpetually happy and bubbly, as she assumes that everyone always expects her to be. If only so that she won't _'let everyone down,'_ as she far too often worries that she will (although, in reality, doing so would be entirely impossible, if only because everyone around her adores the princess so unconditionally). Eugene so wishes that he could find a way for her to stop, a way to make Rapunzel understand that _no one_ realistically expects her to be happy in every moment of every day. She deserves far better than to continue to believe that walking on eggshells – that striving for everyone's happiness before her own – could possibly end in a positive result for her.

She's always had a _thing_ for doing this, Eugene has noticed: a thing for bottling her feelings deep within herself, winding herself much tighter than necessary – something that could easily be avoided if she just _wouldn't bottle them up._ While the two of them have always had a comfortable intimacy – always able to talk about any and everything together – Rapunzel still allows that ghostly touch of Gothel's to linger from time to time, even between them. And really, Eugene can't blame her for that, and never would.

For eighteen, unfair years (eighteen years which would always remain just a _little bit_ stolen from her, incapable of getting back, no matter how much she heals from them), Rapunzel had been presented with little to no other options. Her feelings had never been truly heard, her thoughts never validated all the way, and her dreams and zeal for life outside of those tower walls had always been brushed to the side, as though they were nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust. Hiding her true emotions, at least when living in the tower, had been a means of _survival_ for Rapunzel.

But it shouldn't have to be that way with _him_ , not anymore. And really, it never has been. She deserves far better, always had, and Eugene has done everything that he can in the last nine months to give it to her. He's done everything in his power to be her painfully soft, always _safe_ place to land: her safe place to be angry, or sad, or whatever emotion that she needs to feel in that particular moment, really. As long as he was there to catch, validate, and protect said emotion, she was free to feel it. She was free to crash-land, free to believe that it's okay not to be happy _all the time._

"No. It's clearly not _nothing_." Eugene counters insistently, gentle but firm, lifting his head from where it had previously been between her legs. "You're not moaning for me like you always do. Something's bothering you, I can tell."

She cranes her neck to look down at him, a small smile playing upon her lips, reaching down to run a single finger along the curve of his jaw, pressing it to his mouth for a brief moment.

"Or maybe… you're just not as good at this as you think you are."

"Very funny, Blondie." Eugene mutters, ' _Well, if she wants to play it_ _ **that**_ _way_ ' looking up at her seductively while dragging a heavy hand up the inside of her thigh, effectively toying with her. "But we both know _that's_ not true."

"Don't stop, then. You feel so good…" Rapunzel insists, trying her best to reassure him into continuing, still slightly breathless from the last ten minutes of overstimulation. She shifts her hips to gently nudge his head with a thigh – as if to reassure him that she's alright, to keep going – with no such luck. "Really, nothing is bothering me. I promise."

"Hey, now. What do we always say about promises, Sunshine?"

Eugene raises an eyebrow at her, shooting Rapunzel a pointed look, fondly recalling one of the first things that she'd ever so courageously said to him – a statement which has become a bit of an inside joke for them: _'When I promise something, I never, ever break that promise._ _ **Ever**_ _.'_

"You can't promise that you're okay if you're really not." He finishes with a more serious tone, determined to get her to tell him whatever has been so clearly bothering her all night.

"But I _am_. I am okay."

Rapunzel had snuck into his bedroom after tonight's spring solstice ball — something that the princess does far more often than either of them would ever admit to anyone else — and had all but _begged_ _him_ to touch her, her body thrumming with tangible desire.

Not that Eugene ever needs much persuading when it comes to her.

Regardless, Rapunzel _had_ seemed a little off all night at the party, and Eugene was always incredibly adept to whenever she was feeling in such a way. As a result of this strange, visible _offness_ during the ball, Rapunzel had been particularly… _jumpy_ when she'd snuck into his bedroom to see him later that night, yet somehow simultaneously very _tense_ when she'd climbed into his bed well past one in the morning. Only about twenty minutes earlier, both of them had separately bid goodnight to her parents, calmly claiming that they would be _'turning in for the night.'_

Turning in the sheets, maybe.

Though, no one but them had to know _that_ , and no one but them had to register the dark looks that they'd been shooting one another from over the dinner table and from across the ballroom all evening, having spent the entirety of the busy afternoon apart. In real time, finally there in his bed with her, Eugene sighs deeply, feeling a bit defeated when his princess doesn't show any signs of budging on the whole _emotions_ front. He slowly rubs gentle, reassuring circles into Rapunzel's bare thigh from its propped place upon his shoulder as he looks at her sympathetically.

"Sweetheart… I _know_ you. I know when something is bothering you, and I know when you're not feeling like yourself. And _I'm_ not going to continue until _you_ tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours. So, how about you stop being stubborn and spill it, and we can get right back to the fun stuff."

Eugene's lips break into a knowing, suggestive smile as he leans down to, painfully softly, kiss up the inside of her thigh, murmuring against the warm, shaky skin there as he goes, his hot breath sending a shiver up her spine.

" _Unless_ … unless you don't _want_ _me_ to do this anymore. And in that case, it's totally fine. We can always just, you know…"

Eugene nuzzles his nose against her, allowing his warm, trailing breaths to linger against her skin before pulling away suddenly, looking to Rapunzel expectantly as her body deflates and her eyes flutter closed in the best kind of agony. He effectively pulls away, straining his voice slightly in an attempt to sound totally nonchalant in spite of the desire drumming through his own body.

"Go to sleep."

He's being mean, Eugene knows. Maybe now isn't the best time to be teasing her, but he really does hate to see his love so clearly worried about something, and so clearly shoving this something deep down inside, as she too often does to be entirely healthy. Eugene hates it, especially when he doesn't even _know_ what that something is, and can't subsequently at least _attempt_ to ease her mind.

And besides, he so enjoys watching her squirm in his hands in this way. And if making her squirm is the only way to get that something _out_ of her, then so be it.

"Eugene..."

The strangled sound – something crossed between a moan and a whimper – falls from her lips pitifully, satisfying Eugene just enough to continue toying with her. He smirks against her skin, gently biting the soft flesh of her thigh before returning his tongue to the achingly wet place between her legs, causing her to gasp and instinctually clench them around his head in that wordless way of begging him to _please_ _stop stringing her along_ _already._

"That's better. Remember, I know exactly how you tick, Princess." Eugene speaks between the soft strokes of his tongue, thoroughly pleased by the way that her legs begin to shake sinfully around him. "But you're not off the hook quite yet. You still need to tell me what's on your mind."

"It's s-silly, really. It's just that I – _oh…_ Eugene…"

She frantically grabs for a fistful of his hair as he gently massages the bundle of nerves between her legs with his tongue, slowly sliding a finger inside of her as Rapunzel struggles to find the words for what she's been feeling all night. It's a deep, self-deprecating feeling: a feeling which the once-lost princess really hadn't had a good enough reason to experience when she'd still been living in her tower.

"I didn't... _mmm_..."

Her body moving on pure instinct, Rapunzel's hips rotate in small circles against his expert mouth, her blood rushing and her insides desperate for the warm, blissful friction which only he can provide – a friction which, despite her recent pleas, he's insisted that they need to wait to feel. A friction which she has only recently begun to understand, but just _knows_ would feel _so good_ if Eugene would just give in to the whole 'waiting' thing already – if he would just give in to her.

The princess knows that Eugene only wants to wait to effectively bury himself inside of her, because that's what _her parents_ want – not because it's actually what _he_ wants. And Rapunzel, though she loves them dearly, doesn't want to _do_ everything that her parents want – if only because she's grown rather tired of people always telling her what to do, usually without considering _her_ needs or desires. Rapunzel doesn't like waiting. She doesn't want to wait. She'd waited for him for _eighteen damn years_. She doesn't want to wait any more than that.

And weren't those eighteen years enough? Hadn't she done her due diligence?

But that's not the issue at hand, is it?

"I didn't like the way those girls were… l-looking at you tonight."

Rapunzel finally blurts the truth that has been resting there in her heart all night long, this truth having been effectively coaxed from her by his persuading tongue – his tongue, which is a little _too good_ at persuading her of things, making Rapunzel forget even her own name.

She doesn't entirely like the way that the confession rests upon her _own_ tongue, lingering there annoyingly like a bad taste in her mouth. Because if she admits such a thing aloud, that will somehow make it _real_. And if it's real, this possessive confession will probably make her a horrible, selfish person. Speaking these emotions out loud to him – silly as it seems – will make what she's feeling right now, real.

And Rapunzel doesn't _want_ _it_ to be real. She doesn't want to ruin the moment, and she doesn't want him to worry. She _definitely_ doesn't want to be one of those overly-possessive girlfriends – even if her boyfriend _is_ the hottest man to ever grace the streets of Corona. No, Rapunzel doesn't want to be one of those insecure girls for being with someone like him, someone that everyone wants. She has no _reason_ to be, nor has he ever given her one. Because she's fine, and they're fine, and he loves her.

_Right?_

"Which girls?"

Desperately trying to push aside the shame which she feels for what she's just confessed, Rapunzel rolls her eyes as though the answer were utterly obvious. But then, her eyes roll _back_ , and it's just too hard to think straight with his tongue doing that to her, and it's entirely too hard to truly feel ashamed about anything right now.

"You _know_ which ones. The triplets from Evander. They were asking you to tell them stories of all of your... a-adventures all night. They were flirting with you, and their eyes were... oh, _fuck_..."

His finger is sliding in and out of her _so slowly_ , now hitting _just_ the right spot deep inside of her on the return, causing Rapunzel's own eyes to flutter shut once more, and her train of thought to subsequently run right off its tracks.

At the sound of the crude word – a word which he'd so proudly taught her to properly use in times just like this – falling from her usually-so-innocent lips, Eugene's train is dangerously close to careening right off the tracks, too. In response to such a word coming from _her_ mouth, he could so easily lose all sense of control and responsibility, desperate to give in to her. Nine months later, and she'd proven herself to be the best student that he ever could've asked for, and this fact far too often sends a pang of dangerous, unignorable need straight through him.

And if Eugene didn't respect her parents' request to keep his dick in his pants until the right time – if he didn't respect the king and queen as much as he annoyingly always _does_ at the end of the day, despite his typical liking for pushing the boundaries – he would. He would, and it would feel _so fucking good._

But he won't. He won't push that particular boundary. Not today, not yet. Today, he'll keep it together, because something is very clearly bothering her, and she deserves to be heard. She deserves to know that her worries are worth something to him – that they're worth _a lot_ to him. A lot more than physical desire and a lot more than lust.

"Their eyes were...?" He prompts her to continue, not entirely sure where this eccentric princess of his is going with this, but entirely too curious not to find out now.

Rapunzel groans softly – now, more out of sheer frustration than in response to what his tongue is doing to her, though she groans at that, too. She's grown tired of him playing coy, as if Eugene isn't painfully aware of just how attractive he really is.

How couldn't he be? _She's_ entirely aware of it – a little _too_ aware of it for her own good, probably.

"Their eyes were basically _undressing you_ , right there in the middle of the ballroom!"

Eugene looks up at her, smiling devilishly in response to Rapunzel's lewd, slightly amusing outburst.

"Oh, don't be so sure." He plays back, voice hushed, crawling up her body slightly to look Rapunzel directly in the face, his handsome features illuminated by the soft glow of the golden candlelight around them. "And don't pretend like you don't do the same thing, Princess. I know you do, because I catch you sometimes. You know… you're not _nearly_ as sneaky as you think you are."

"That's different. I can't help it. Besides, I'm allowed to, because I'm in love with you." Ignoring his teasing, Rapunzel moans shakily as Eugene nips at her breast before shuffling back down her body, her voice sharp with the harsh edge of clear jealousy as she watches him go down on her. "And _I_ at least have the self-awareness to try to _hide_ how much I want you."

Eugene chuckles at this, the sound of his laughter vibrating against her skin, always flattered when his sweet princess voices her desire for him. Though, his expression quickly falls serious, desperate for Rapunzel to understand that his desire for her is just as exclusive as her desire for _him_ , utterly untouchable by anyone else.

"I honestly didn't notice. Them, I mean. I was just entertaining them to be polite, the conversation didn't mean anything to me. I only noticed you."

Eugene's fixed gaze burns a hole through Rapunzel as he continues the agonizingly slow pump of his finger within her, breathing heavily at the sound and sight of _her_ heavy breathing.

"I only ever notice you."

"Well, I did." Rapunzel huffs quietly, allowing her head to fall back into the pillows in bliss, though she doesn't break their hard, passionate gaze, her unfortunate insecurity clearly not satisfied quite yet. "I noticed."

"Listen to me."

Eugene demands, voice edged with just enough possessiveness of his own to make her perk back up as he firmly takes both of her trembling thighs in his hands, looking her in the eye as he pushes them slightly wider for him, forcing her legs to shake just a little harder in overstimulation.

"It really doesn't matter. They don't matter. And do you want to know _why_ they don't matter?"

"Why?"

Rapunzel questions him breathlessly, _aching_ to know, the green envy inside of her having grown and twisted into something painful and ugly all night – something that desperately needs his reassurance. She watches Eugene curiously as his voice lowers generously and his eyes darken obviously, words and expression equally filled with the wonderstruck desire which comes with knowing someone as perfect as her.

"Why doesn't it matter?"

' _Tell me! Please, tell me. I need to know that you could only ever want me. I know that it's true, I always have. But I need to hear it tonight, more than I've ever needed to hear anything from your lips! I need you to_ _ **show**_ _me.'_

"Well, to answer your question, Sunshine…" Eugene smirks knowingly, lowering his head to flick his tongue against her only once, before lifting his gaze once more to look her in the eye, pleased by her transfixed, desire-clouded expression. "My head is between _your_ legs right now, and I'll keep it right here all night, if you want. I'll gladly keep it here for the rest of my life. Really, that should tell you everything you need to know."

Okay, so he poses a completely valid argument, and his sensual words send a sharp pang of fresh need through the self-conscious princess. But Rapunzel needs reassurance, _bad_. And somehow, what he's saying doesn't seem to be quite enough to properly quench the raging fire of her insecurity. Right now, she needs him to _show_ , not tell.

It isn't that Rapunzel hasn't been tirelessly working on her confidence in the last nine months (after being belittled in the tower by Gothel for eighteen _years_ ), because she has. It isn't that she isn't independent, capable, and self-assured, because she always has been. But sometimes, at events like the one that they'd been expected to attend tonight, foreign nobles — foreign _princesses_ , to be exact — arrive in Corona with their wide eyes, and their perfect breasts (which are always somehow much bigger than her own), and their knack for always gravitating _right_ toward the most handsome, most interesting man at any party: Eugene Fitzherbert.

And suddenly, Rapunzel's nine month shift in her insecurity feels all for naught. Because they all inevitably gravitate toward _him_ – a taken man, nonetheless!

And how could she blame them, really? Rapunzel herself feels that same gravitational pull whenever she's around him. She feels that magnetic pull from him each and every day, luring her in. So, no – she can't blame the other women for wanting him so, for the lust which surely bubbles within them at the sheer opportunity of catching a glimpse of the _infamous_ Flynn Rider. The same happens to _her_ all the time.

After all, he _is_ the man who would inevitably have so many engaging stories to tell of his past life as a criminal, and hands which everyone just _knows_ would be adept with experience – hands which would make you feel things that you'll never be able to forget. And, realistically, these young, noble women and foreign princesses would never be allowed to have anything _serious_ with a man like him. Likely, their fathers would never allow it (honestly, Eugene is sometimes still shocked that _her_ father had allowed it).

But to be able to say that the previously-most wanted, arguably-most _handsome_ man in the Seven Kingdoms had fucked them secretly in the middle of a ball, chandeliers hanging above them, hastily hiking up their skirts and effectively getting off before anyone could even notice that they'd disappeared... well, they were at least going to _try_ to get his attention, if nothing else.

Oh, and try they did.

And notice, Rapunzel did. And suddenly, she isn't sure if everyone understands the exclusivity of intimate relationships quite as well as she does – and _she'd_ been locked away for eighteen years!

So really, Eugene's completely valid point doesn't count for much right now, at least in the currently stormy place of Rapunzel's insecure mind – every possible _'what if'_ blowing through her like a harsh wind, treating her as though she were nothing more than a sorry excuse for a steady house of cards. _'What if he would rather be with someone else, given the chance? What if he's only with me out of convenience, and not because he's truly in love with me? What if he thinks the other girls are prettier than I am? What if they're much more experienced with… with things like_ _ **this**_ _.'_

Insecurity, Rapunzel has learned – and the jealousy which so often naturally comes trailing along behind it like a sad, lost puppy – is an ugly, evil thing. It plants these completely invalid, completely _untrue_ 'what ifs' in your head, watching with glee as your mind runs with them.

Rapunzel's eyes narrow slightly as she props herself back up on her elbows to look at him directly, now balancing on a dangerous tightrope of emotional and sexual frustration.

"It doesn't matter to you that everyone clearly wants you as much as I do, and that they don't even bother trying to hide it in front of me?"

Her green eyes bore into him, twisting like thorn-edged vines behind her irises, which are green as her obvious, growing envy. Eugene knows that he can't blame her, only because jealousy is an emotion which she'd really never had to deal with before meeting him.

Eugene sighs, not wanting his princess to worry her sweet head over something so silly. He'd thought that, over the course of the last nine months that they've spent together, he'd done an incredibly good job at letting Rapunzel know that he is so ridiculously in love with her, and that he could _never_ have eyes for another woman for the rest of his life. That he wouldn't trade even the sun itself for her, that he would surely rather _die again_ than ever lose her – that, dramatic as it may sound, it's the truth.

She knows these things – _knows_ how much he truly loves her, if only because he reminds her at least a dozen times a day, if not much more – and _Eugene_ knows that she knows. But Rapunzel is only human. Perhaps she's just had a long, stressful day, and perhaps some simple reassurance will do her good: reassurance which Eugene is always more than happy to provide.

"First of all, I don't think they want me as much as you do." Eugene reasons with slight amusement, gesturing arrogantly to the desire-dripped place between her legs. "Second… it doesn't mean anything, Rapunzel. _They_ don't mean anything. Everything I could ever want is right here in front of me. _Please_ believe that."

Eugene understands her concern. Really, he does. It's not as though, in the last nine months, plenty of worthy, noble men haven't tried to capture the attention of the sweet, compassionate, and heartbreakingly _beautiful_ Lost Princess. They have, and jealousy has sparked through his body more times at the endless amount of fancy banquets and crowded balls than Eugene feels quite ready to admit. But he'd felt jealousy before – well, at the very least, he had enough experience with it to know how to hide it politely.

She doesn't. And while Rapunzel is always the _furthest thing_ from rude to any of her guests (even the flirtatious ones), it's much harder for her to keep her envy from clearly crossing her face. Eugene doesn't blame her for that. But it's been made painfully clear tonight that jealousy isn't an emotion which Rapunzel had felt much of before leaving her tower.

Realistically, she hadn't had a _reason_ to be jealous of anything or anyone before – aside from, perhaps, feeling envious of the clouds, or the birds, or the flowers for _not_ being trapped inside of the tower. And knowing her sweet nature as well as Eugene does, he can assume that she probably wasn't even jealous of _them_ , having been so brainwashed by Gothel into believing that her proper place was inside the tower – that she _belonged_ there.

But being painfully jealous over another _person?_ That was altogether new territory for the once-lost princess, if only because she'd never had anyone to compare herself to before. Territory which – Eugene had hoped – he would be able to successfully guide her through, just as he's helped her through every single new, terrifying experience that she's had since returning home.

In all honesty, Eugene _had_ noticed the flirtations of the foreign triplets at the party earlier that night. He is a forever taken man, of course, but he isn't _blind_ , nor is he ignorant. More so, he is entirely perceptive to and entirely experienced with the concept of their shameless brand of flirting. Despite this, Eugene hadn't played along or given into the girls' wooing – wooing which would've, a year ago, been worthy of stroking his ego quite effectively.

Honestly, a year ago, it would've been painfully likely that Flynn Rider would've found a way to take the brunette sister to bed with him.

But he isn't that person anymore, and the only brunette capable of luring him right into bed, is the one who had a golden crown resting on her head – the brunette who had been eyeing him from the opposite side of the room as the triplets circled around him, giggling far too much for their intentions to remain entirely _subtle_ , listening contently to his watered-down stories with wide, hooded eyes. Honestly, he'd tried to get away from them a few times, but hadn't wanted to be rude, either. His etiquette instructor (yeah, he had to have one of those in order to escort Rapunzel to fancy balls like this), had trained him in such things.

And Eugene, always so in tune with her body language, had easily noticed Rapunzel's hard, shamelessly protective look boring into him and the trio of Evander sisters from across the ballroom, her expression shifting as she'd been holding an assumedly boring conversation with some stuffy, grey-haired council member. Eugene could see it in her eyes then: Rapunzel wasn't angry with him, but the gears were visibly turning in her head far too fast for the envious princess to properly process what it _was_ that she was actually feeling, the insecurity of it all planting thoughts into her head that she really needn't be having. _Untrue_ thoughts that he could ever want anyone in the way that he constantly wants her.

Honestly, Eugene had hoped that the pinprick of envy which had crossed her face earlier in the night, would dissipate as soon as the party was over, just like it usually does when silly things like this happen. He had hoped that, as soon as Rapunzel would sneak into his bed later that night, just as he'd quietly, _secretly_ asked her to do while they'd been dancing together, she wouldn't be worried anymore.

Besides, Eugene truly means it when he says that none of it means anything to him, because it doesn't. The female attention which so often follows him – the looks of lust, the one-sided flirting, and the shameless innuendos – none of it interests him, not even in the slightest. The attention, which would once have stroked Flynn Rider's own insecure ego so satisfyingly, does _nothing_ for him now.

It doesn't mean anything, any of it, because the attention is not coming from _her_. Only Rapunzel can make him weak in the knees, only she can make him so hard that it actually hurts sometimes because he wants her so much, and only she can make him melt into a puddle of a man with those haunting, green eyes, mesmerizing him with the way that his _real_ name falls from her mouth so sweetly.

Only she can make him want to change his entire _life_ for her, to be a better man for her sake. To grow up a little, to experience the biggest wakeup call of a lifetime; to realize that not everything is about him, that not everything is about what _he_ wants. She is the only one who could ever make him care enough to want to ensure that all of this means far more than lustful looks, and hasty fucks in a broom closet, and quickly received satisfaction. It can still _be_ all of those things, sure. But it will be more, too. It will be more than sex, and more than lust, and more than satisfying his own desires – only to leave her high and dry the next morning, just as he'd done to so many women before her. He doesn't want that anymore. Because now, there _are_ strings attached, and he would never, ever cut them.

This love of theirs, it will be _more_. It'll be more because it's _her_ , and because he wants more from her than the satisfaction of burying his dick deep inside of her (although, he really wants that, too. _Really_ wants it. Someday. When the time is right. When he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she's ready). No, it's more than that. It's more than the lust, more than the slight agony of waiting for that right time.

The waiting – no matter how agonizing – is well worth it. _She_ is well worth it. She is worth it, because their relationship means so much more to him than the simple desire for her body.

What he _really_ wants from her, is her _future_. He wants her future, and everything that comes with it. He wants her forever. He wants to wake up to her face every single morning, he wants to watch her walk down the aisle toward him in a gorgeous white dress, and he wants to make lots of babies that look just like her. He wants to regard himself as her husband until the end of time, and he wants to regard her as his best friend for the rest of his life, and he wants to hear his name on her lips until his final breath.

After all, _she_ is the only woman who has ever spoken his real name to him, the only woman who has ever moaned it for him like she is right now, head between her legs, pulling that name from deep within her chest. She is the _only_ woman who has ever had such a privilege of knowing the _real_ him.

So, why is she so worried about this? Isn't that fact alone proof enough that his affections – that his lust, for that matter – could never fall upon the shoulders of another woman? Realistically speaking, there's no good reason for her to feel insecure about this at all.

But Eugene fully understands that, after eighteen years of being violently manipulated, sometimes her mind plays tricks on her, and he would never dream of holding this against Rapunzel. After all, she's never held his past against him, no matter how fucked up. Really, it isn't her fault that she's never had to feel such particular, love-driven envy before. He doesn't want to judge her for it, and never would.

All Eugene really wants to do, is pull this deep insecurity from her head, crushing it in his hands so that she _never_ has to feel it again. Eugene would quite literally give up himself – give up his _life_ – if only so that she could be free from that devastating insecurity which had been bestowed upon her mind for nearly two decades. He would gladly die all over again, if only to free her from that horrible prison (literal and mental) which she'd been unknowingly living in for so long.

"So, how _could_ it matter?" Eugene looks up at her, lips once again dragging their way up her thighs as they both refuse to break eye contact. "I don't want them back. I never will."

She's eating up his words just as hungrily as he's been eating her for the last ten minutes or so, so desperately needing to hear them from him. He can tell that the pesky, horrible self-doubt of hers – the one that Gothel had so unfairly planted deep within her – has reared its ugly head tonight. He'd thought that they'd gotten past all of this. Eugene had believed that Rapunzel had made leaps and bounds in her confidence in the last nine months. And she has, truly.

But tonight, something within her had clearly been triggered, something with sharp claws, digging into the fragile emotion of her protection over him – a protection which is much less about wanting control or her desire to seek power over him (because she would never do that), than it is about being protective over him because he'd once died in her very arms. She clearly feels insecure – worried that she might lose him all over again – something that Eugene never, _ever_ wants his princess to feel, because the possibility of wanting anyone else actually _repulses_ him.

"I could never want anyone but you ever again. In case you haven't noticed this yet, you're _kind of_ it for me, Princess." Eugene plays with a smile on his lips, though all humor quickly falls from his face once more as she stares into his eyes intensely.

"You're the only one."

Rapunzel pants all the heavier in response to his vulnerable words, her fingers tightening their grip as they thread through his hair, a moan being dragged from her lips from a low, dirty, _envious_ place.

"Show me." Rapunzel begs desperately, pulling at his hair to guide his mouth back to its rightful place between her legs. "Show me that I'm the only one. _Please_."

_Oh, he'd been planning on it. But first:_

"Uh-uh… not so fast, Princess." Eugene watches with an evil look in his eye as his princess deflates, pulling his head away slowly – though he's yet to retract his finger from inside of her, deliberately toying with her all over again. "If you really want me to get you off, you're going to have to promise me something first."

"What?" She asks frantically, desperate to say whatever it is that he wants her to say. Eugene could ask her to leave the country with him right now, and she would probably agree to it shamelessly, as long as _he_ promises to give her the satisfaction that she's been dying for all night. "What is it?"

"Promise me that you won't worry about this anymore. Or that you'll at least _try_ not to."

"Eugene, please. This is silly —"

"Promise me." He repeats, amber eyes burning through her, remaining steady in his request. "You're so beautiful, and I love you _so_ fucking much, and I never, _ever_ want you to worry about me wanting someone else, because it's literally impossible. It's impossible, Rapunzel."

"Okay…" Responding shakily, she swallows hard, overtaken by the firm sureness of his otherwise loving words.

"Promise me."

"I… I promise."

"What do you promise?"

Dipping his head between her thighs again, Eugene awaits her response before pressing his mouth to her once more, finally giving her what she wants as Rapunzel grips onto his hair so hard that it would hurt if the circumstance between them were different.

"That… _oh_ … that I won't worry about those other girls."

"Good girl." He speaks quietly to the wet place between her legs, causing her to whimper pitifully as his low voice hums against her, quickly replaced by his tongue.

He'll waste no time at all pushing her completely over the edge, if only to prove to Rapunzel that loving or wanting anyone but her, _is_ entirely impossible for him, just as he'd promised. She all but screams his name when she cums, and he brings a stifling hand to her mouth to muffle the sound, murmuring softly into her ear as she violently comes down onto his fingers. Her hot, molten desire reminds Eugene of the reason as to why she'd been so insecure about all of this in the first place: because she loves him, and wants him, and because the thought of _anyone else_ wanting him – the thought of him _doing this_ to anyone else ever again – is just a little too much for her to bear.

"Sunshine?"

"Y-yeah?" She breathes out a quiet laugh, completely spent and entirely reassured (and, honestly, feeling a little silly now for even _allowing_ herself to feel so worried in the first place) as Eugene leans forward to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

" _You_ are my dream. Not them, not anyone else, not anything else. Only you."

_Always you._


End file.
